Odd Jobs
by Eggnog-Drunkard
Summary: Their wizarding tournament days over, three bored, single young men take on whatever paranormal case they can get their hands on, which includes lovesick ghosts and a past that (mind the pun) came back to haunt. Chaos ensues, as if they weren't enough of magical trainwrecks before this whole 'growing up and getting a proper job' thing. (Magic Trio. AU. Romance/Humour/Family.)
1. Prologue: Ruffled Young Man

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. I don't own any dragons either, sadly, but if you can obtain some make sure they ain't endangered or some shit like that k?

* * *

There is something about old stone buildings that make one feel as if they were the being watched and scrutinized. After all, you only pass through it a few brief times, but it has seen the seasons pass, and the cycle of birth, life and death by murder from particularly pesky psychopaths. It drips with being; full of romance, hidden corners and damp grime. Trysts with lovers would be difficult here, for the walls have eyes of their own, so a particular unpleasant sense of voyeurism would hang. After all, long halls provided excellent acoustics, and echoes seemed to be the only gossip old wooden doors ever heard nowadays. Sound carried easily, and god knows what sort of people were waiting on the other side.

Old stone buildings were generally tread through with a certain reverence and caution, like a botanist through a garden.

So the confident smacking of a well polished heel on the grey granite ground seemed like a sort of impudence to the building, but the young man had places to be, so he had to be forgiven. A strange curl of a satellite bounced violently near to his nape, even more vigorously so to keep up with his pace.

Lukas Bondevik hated being ruffled, but he also hated waking up on time. He also hated that he only had time for less than a quarter of a coffee before he remembered this meeting and that he forgot to pour it in a cup to savour along the way.

(Not that he had much time to- any longer and they'd start without him, and that would annoy him even further. He also noted that this would result in some sort of backlash from his mental state later, and he'd probably start hissing and cussing at everything in approximately half an hour. Sufficient caffeine was as important as oxygen for his functions.)

He wound around a corner, approaching an unremarkably plain wooden door with spiralled groves on the knob, and tucked in a stray strand of hair behind his ear before entering. It creaked obnoxiously, like most old doors, and you could just _smell_ the dirty in the room, dim, stacked with broken tables and cupboards. There were fond memories of this place, in the days where he would sneak in here after everyone had returned to their dorms. Across the room stood a figure, his back turned on Lukas. A pregnant pause hung in the air, like so many of the other strange scents in the old classroom.

"I take it you were spending too much time with Matthias last night?" An exotic accent asked with scarcely hidden glee.

"I'd rather spend time with you at night, my dear." He replied, slipping all the snark he could in a statement cooly delivered.

The other man in the room set his little oil lamp down, turned around and patted the dust off the front of his coat. He grinned cheekily, eerily sharp canines out of place on a boyish face that would have otherwise been a favourite amongst pre-pubescent girls.

"It's been a long time, hasn't it?"

"And now you're back, Vladmir Lupei."

The young Dragonmaster tossed a pair of leather gloves across the room to the seasoned Summoner. He winked at Lukas before cranking a lever hidden as one of the classroom table legs. The wall behind him trembled, and belched the scent of damp, stony dungeon as it moved open to reveal a passage way guarded with glittering carvings of scales, waves and tendrils.

"One more left. Arthur's waiting in the nursery."

* * *

"And as you can see, this baby's just started teething- oh no, no don't do that." Vladmir flinched as the infant pygmy dragon heaved out a little stream of heat up his neck. He pet the flying scaleball with his gloved finger, letting it rest on his shoulder and purr contentedly.

Lukas quirked an eyebrow when the dragon hissed at him instead, screeching rather pathetically. Still, he was a sucker for cute things, like little brothers and hair pins and sailor suits. He tapped a foot impatiently as the two of them waited for Arthur to get out of the toilet. It was a surprisingly clean and well maintained toilet, despite being underground and barely used. Alright, they cheated- there _was_ magic involved, but only to a certain extent.

Arthur, ever so poised, stepped out of the toilet with a sweep of his cape, a little horned creature quickly zipping under it. It clopped around him excitedly, and reached to poke his eyebrows with it's forehorn as he bent down to pick it up. Of course it would be curious about them, considering how majestically thick they were- he'd never tried waxing or spell reversal, even after all these years.

"Well, gentlemen. Now that I'm done cleaning up, I think it's time for me to tell you why I've called you back on a Saturday morning."

"Let me guess- Francis is barricading you from your kitchen again. He only means the best, you know." Lukas dryly added, picking his (well-manicured) fingernails.

"The cooking jokes are getting a little old don't you think?"

"Yeah there's loads of things to make fun of you of, like how sweater vests are your protection from any pretty girls-"

A pen ceremoniously flew onto Vladmir's face.

"Wow, classy."

And one onto Lukas', but he managed to duck and dodge. Arthur rubbed his temples, short temper ready to burst any vein of his. _This is probably why he doesn't get along with that brother of his, _he noted mentally, _then again, I don't get along with that brother of his either._

"So we've gotten a case."

"...We're magicians, stop reading so much Sherlock." Vladmir snickered.

Arthur, suddenly feeling all smug and witty, replied, "It's not so much to do with British memorabilia than to do with Japanese cult horror, boys-" (Oh how he relished using that word,)"we've got fifty grand to earn and a lovesick ghost on our hands."

Questions were raised and baby dragons were confused, but the most pressing issue was really which coffee shop nearby the old university wing had the best caffeine, for the boys had much catching up to be done.

And for them, the fun had just begun.

* * *

**Authors Note:**

AU time yo! Vladmir Lupei will be the name I'm using for Romania in this one. Clearly a Magic Trio centric fic, but this AU would probably branch out into several different pairings wwww Regular updates aren't a promise, but I'll try to keep the chapters short and update at least twice a month?  
Alternative titles to this are: Chickens sometimes attempt to be funny and write magical stuff and fails.


	2. Chapter the First: Breakfast at Marie's

It was a small place.

Small, in fact, was an understatement. Cramped, packed, compact- somewhere along those lines. It was a far cry from a fancy establishment, framed photoshop manipulations hanging in assorted frames on the walls, bordering on tacky, but all that mattered was that it's coffee was good, and that it's waffles were also very good. (The chick is hot, Vladmir noted) Most importantly, it was very, very well hidden- so well hidden that this was one of the only places where the landlord hadn't doubled the rent on, which allowed the vendors to sell things at good, broke college student prices.

She noted their distaste at the displays, and knowing that they were an aesthetic plague upon the eatery, apologized. The last owner had been a sassy one who often did things out of glorifying irony, but her and her brother had taken over the place after they 'disappeared mysteriously'. (It happened a lot around this town, but this one was probably a case of finding someplace else with better prospects.)

"Sorry about the pictures, we've been meaning to do something about those for a while. We've been losing more business than usual so our prices have gone up a teeny bit."

"Go on, order, Lukas." Arthur nodded towards him. "We all know you're going to send someone to their death again if you don't get some coffee."

A malicious glare was shot across the table, and shins were stabbed at underneath it. Eventually, Vladmir knocked his knee into the table, which by regular human standards would cause someone to cuss something out in their native tongue, which he did, prompting the pretty blonde waitress to ask about their well-being, which also led to him attempting to flirt with her. Being the bored young lady she was, she reciprocated, but clearly in a manner which showed she thought he was some adolescent boy. Eventually they ordered something, trying not to make themselves look completely childish. Then again, maturity was getting harder and harder to obtain at even older ages; a trip to your local mall should be clear evidence of that.

Now the wait for the food begun.

Vladmir cleared his throat and began, "...So, how's Matthias been?"

"Why is it that everytime we attempt to start a conversation, Vladmir, Matthias seems to be your first point of interest?" Lukas replied.

"You're the only one here who has any form of a romantic life, you know." Arthur interjected. Of course a troublesome lover (when did he ever use such an endearing term for a mythical humanoid creature who lived in his house on minimal rent?) would be a problem that the other two men would have preferred to deal with, rather than early-twenties singlehood.

"We're not sleeping together, and that's all you need and want to know." Lukas firmly declared. The coffee soon arrived, so sipping zipped away snappy words. "Besides, we were never together."

(He wouldn't admit it at this point of time, but he felt a little pang in his chest when he said so.)

"How about Emil?" Vladmir tried.

"How about we stop asking about my personal life and we ask about yours?"

Vladmir shrugged.

"Have you gotten a girlfriend yet? Resolved years of unchannelled sexual tension with Elizabeta?"

"No, what we have is a debt and a bitch fight, not unchannelled sexual tension."

"Sounds like it to me. How about that Bulgarian guy?" Arthur interjected.

"Unchannelled sexual tension is more of you and Francis- I can channel my sexual tension to anywhere I want."

Lukas grinned internally. _You mean your hand?_

"But still, that Bulgarian guy is _quite_ the looker." Lukas continued. He sent Vladmir the saccharine, man-eating smile he used on lusty, pudgy middle-aged managers; a smile which threatened that he would attempt to flirt with whomever Vladmir ever brought around. (Just as long as they were capable of intellectual conversation, he reminded himself.)

"Is this why you don't get along with your family, Lukas?" Arthur questioned, very well knowing that it was Lukas' sass which got him where he was today.

"Is this why you don't get along with your flatmates, Arthur?" He questioned back, ever word well intoned to remind him of all the people who eventually opted to rent another flat as opposed to staying with him, and dealing with his smothering, motherly, busybody ways.

"...Touche."

The food soon arrived, sauce and spice and all. They were young men, and young men were ravenous. "Tuck in," the lovely waitress said, and tuck in they did.

But the one who had kept silent wasn't listening.

A shot of images raced across his train of thought, and his tongue was paralysed by the sudden, overwhelming rush of messages that fizzed and invaded him from his toes to the tip of his head. He knew what this phenomena meant, but it'd been such a long time since it had happened. He'd almost forgotten he had this ability, because time seemed so much longer in this spectrum of existence than in the one he used to use it in.

And suddenly, he couldn't see what was in front of him, and a slow, steady voice began to narrate itself in his head, like the wisest of dragons rousing from it's sleep.

* * *

_Im Yong Soo wasn't the most courageous of men, but he certainly wasn't all that easily scared. He had, like many other males of his age, his own funny antics- nothing extreme, just claiming the occasional origin of things and groping the occasional boob. But he'd never go so far as to practice strange, paranormal rituals. At least, not in his own room. Somebody else's room yes, but not in his own._

_This was explainable; people had a fear of the unknown. Why dabble in something that you couldn't see, or possibly cause a lifetime of trauma or getting trailed by horny poltergeists? Nope, if there were any shenanigans involving the occult to be done, it wasn't going to be in his room, nope, no siree._

_His shriek, however, said otherwise._

_Rocking back and forth in the corner of Alfred's room, he blubbered and choked over his words, and all the other young man could make out was;_

_"She's after me."_

* * *

Vladmir snapped up from his waffles.

"...Did you link me to your aurasphere, Arthur?"

"Why did you think I was in the bathroom for so long?" Arthur said, eating a piece of his omelette. Swallowing, he said, "Basically, what he saw was probably something Alfred had attempted to direct to me. I'd put a filter there for only business related stuff, so any nonsense the boy tries to annoy me with will only reach me... Though if Vladmir here pushes me too far I might switch those filters."

"Oh thank god," Vladmir snorted, "As if having to accept that the only mission we can get nowadays is from a mission from a college frat boy and the result of some drunk party ritual fuck up isn't enough."

"So tell me what happens," Lukas asked, "oh snarky little vampire."

Rubbing his aching temples, Vladmir shook the last snippets of the vivid visions out of his head, directing them through Lukas' receptor curl, who immediately froze and blanked over. (Not that he didn't look this blank most of the time already.) His plate of waffles and melting butter and sauce were screaming for attention, so he quickly turned himself to that, thinking of what to do with Arthur's suddenly brash use of magic. Of course he'd be the one linked to his aurasphere- Lukas' was too heavily guarded by the tracking receptor the fae had placed on him, he remembered, staring at the strange curl, which, when one looked hard enough, vibrated on it's own. It was like the pulse of a hummingbird, except faster and harder to detect. It was connected to all his fae beings, who were determined to keep a watch on him. He could still transmit thoughts when their auraspheres were activated, but the fae beings would be able to see them.

Everyone had vices, and the fae council, which watched over all practitioners of the different sorts of magic, recognized the Seven Deadly ones proposed by the humans as a general guideline to detect dangerous predispositions. Lukas, had, from a very early age, been singled out for a predisposition to Wrath, an especially dangerous flaw in a prodigy of Necromancy, one of the more gruesome factions of magic. There were also certain side effects of such a talent and predisposition, like strained relationships with your little brother-_ certain things_ had happened in the past which they preferred not to talk about. _Things_, of course, that proved that he needed a close watch on. Thus, his curl acted as a tracking device for the fae beings, so whenever his so-called tendencies got out of control while using magic (it didn't include the sort of _abuse_ he wreaked on Matthias- besides, the boy was just asking for it), they'd give him the worst of headaches and snappiest of scoldings.

The fae council, however, could be quite incompetent.

(To be honest, it was more along the lines of 'they really couldn't give too many shits anymore.')

Time and time again, humans proved to... function on a different level of thought, and the fae gradually found themselves more entertained by getting stoned with green pie slime, or saving the environment and using their little leaf laptops to read Cyanide and Happiness at their Moondollars or whatever while drinking a soy green tea latte. The restrictions on magic use, tournaments and quests had slackened a lot in the past 20 years. People got missing more often, and the world saw more timeloops and alternate realities than ever before. (Not that humans noticed, but oh well.) It was an era of excitement for magicians, summoners and seers alike.

But then the Big Event happened.

Lukas set down his cutlery, and looked his companions in the eye, silencing them. It was a rare thing for him to show any emotion other than annoyance and well, annoyance, but his eyes had a worried, dark hint to them, and it was a look that only they ever had the privilege to see.

"...Remember how we accidentally sent Berwald to the underworld?" he gulped.

The other two immediately threw down their forks and knives and rushed to shush him, looking about for anyone who was listening. The blonde waitress seemed to be busy on her headphones, swaying to music, so they sighed in relief.

The Big Event- or otherwise The Accidental Sending of Berwald to The Underworld, was something that the trio had agreed to mention as little as possible about, in fear of the worries that might come flooding back to their minds. Up till now, nothing had gone wrong, everything was fine, _fine_, **_fine_**- because they'd compressed it back into the corner of their mind. But they knew, they knew that it had happened, they knew that the consequences could come knocking at their doorsteps in the middle of a dark and rainy night. So they tried. They tried their very best and hardest not to think of the repercussions, but they _knew_ it was there.

Berwald wasn't meant to be dead, so if you were to be entirely realistic about it- he was the corpse hidden in their closet.

And well, if you had a corpse hidden in your closet, as a magician, you could just whisk it away or erase the memories of the people that knew him, but no, they didn't really have his corpse- they sent him to the underworld. Sending someone to the underworld had many consequences- Lukas was the first to discover so. But that time, he was a child; he'd sent his brother to the underworld on his fifth birthday, out of an off-beat sense of humour and a bit of jealousy that his cake was bigger than his. The Berwald thing was on the night of goddamn formal dinner, when all three of them were on the highs of college nights, just about to set off on a time-warping, dimension-jumping magician's tournament.

The lumbering sop had even rented a groom's suit just to confess to the roomate he'd been crushing on for years.

The trio had decided to leave for the tournament that night, freeze time for a few months, complete the tournament then return just in time for the closing of formal dinner. But of course, Berwald just had to follow them into the woods, near the cable tower.

So when they returned, he dropped right into their portal.

Right into their last destination.

"Lukas, i-it... really has nothing to do with this, I assure you!" Vladmir tried, convincing himself that the ghouls that were teleporting itself through the television and cable systems that they had their dear friend rig so long ago had nothing at all to do with their little accident.

Lukas narrowed his eyes, hissing, "But we still did it! It still happened. If he could figure out where he fell in from he certainly could tell other...creatures where to go."

"Technically speaking, the dead are forbidden from coming up here unless they have very valid reasons for doing so," Arthur interjected, "besides, wasn't that teutonic knight guy always the one leading them back to where they wanted to be?"

"Yeah, yeah, Lukas! The ghost of Halloween was always the one to carry around the dead. Besides, if he knew where he fell in from, wouldn't he "

"...I can't help but-"

Lukas then threw his hands into the air, deadpan expression and all, and sighed.

"I guess we'll have to find out then, from this... Alfred." He got up, and taking his handbag with him, announced that he needed to get some butter cookies.

Meanwhile, the blonde waitress threw one last glance at them, taking up the now emptied cup of black coffee, before texting her brother.

_[sent, 09:32 am]_

_i think the model guy knows matthias kohler_

_[sent from 08567812]_

_kay, you follow them, i'm comin over soon_

* * *

**Preview of the next chapter:**

_Dragons, according to legend, were thought to seek the improvements of relationships between human beings, because if there was one thing they were famous for amongst other species, is that they had a tendency to fight amongst themselves. In fact, the dragons prided themselves so much on this that the large ones often would turn up at unexpected villages to frighten people into unification. Pygmy dragons were more likely to tumble into the arms of estranged brothers and sisters to be taken care of in an attempt to bond the family._

_They also had the reputation of being visible only whenever they wanted to be. _

_So when an icy lick frosted on the blonde model's cheekbone, Lukas internally screamed at Vladmir's attempts to play Aunt Agony._

_...But to give him credit, it was cute. _

* * *

**Author's Note: **

_**CLIFFHANGER DUN DUN DUUUUNNNNN**_

Some plot progress here wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww Actually lol what is this this is madness I can't even- Irk is this writing even quality enough for this fandom orz orz  
I'm sorry readers were you expecting epic battles cause if you were the O' GGG~~~

I'm also gomen for sounding so goddamn high and also for putting such long walls of text in the writing ))))): I hope I could draw a little picture for this fic soon! Overall though this AU is seriously fun to write wheeee.

On a serious note, I might do a one-shot with our DenNor babbus, and several other background stories to explain stuff that happens which I won't be able to cover in this particular fic.

Please please please revie You deserve good stuff if you review, like cheese-mushroom-omelettes and waffles and glorious bowls of udon (why is everything food-related), maybe hugs but no kisses on the mouth because author is a shy author ohohoho

Alternatively titled as: Chickens attempt to make stories

ONCE AGAIN, REVIEWWW HEEEEEEEEEE I'm a darling (yeah right)

Also, can you figure out who the blonde waitress is, and how she knows almost for sure who 'Matthias Kohler' is?


	3. Chapter the Second: Attempts at Progress

Before chapter notes: _[italics]_ - thoughtspeak, mainly towards dragons or amongst the trio during awkward situations. Warning, Safie makes immature dick jokes owo;;

* * *

Dragons, according to legend, were thought to seek the improvements of relationships between human beings, because if there was one thing they were famous for amongst other species, is that they had a tendency to fight amongst themselves. In fact, the dragons prided themselves so much on this that the large ones often would turn up at unexpected villages to frighten people into unification. Pygmy dragons were more likely to tumble into the arms of estranged brothers and sisters to be taken care of in an attempt to bond the family. Many times, this included a Dragonmaster or two dispatching them to somebody they knew personally. It was concluded by many that dragons tended to be biased to the whimsical and woeful.

They also had the reputation of being visible only whenever they wanted to be.

So when an icy lick frosted on the blonde model's cheekbone, Lukas was close to sending the sound of nails scraping blackboards on loop towards Vladmir's aurapshere.

But the dragon, unlike Vladmir, was cute. Flat faced, common for a pygmy, but with liquid violet eyes- not the usual red or green. Matte white scales quivering, Lukas could see the black underscales that it had. It made a trilling, cracking sound at the back of it's throat- that meant it was a boy.

He was very, very cute. (God forbid that leaked out of his thoughts, because Vladmir would only send more of them and Emil would only question more of his life choices.)

_[Shh, shh. C'mere.]_

He beckoned the icy reptilian into his handbag, which promptly curled itself into a ball and purred up his side.

_[You act like a kid_.]

A smirk made it's way to his lips, as he set his groceries on the floor, and took his keys out.

* * *

"Marie, do we knock first or do we barge in?"

"...I think we knock first, Jan, that's more socially appropriate." She whispered back. Jan growled, scratching his head through tall tufts of sandy hair. "And are you smoking something...?"

"What? No."

"B-but.."

An unpleasant, pungent smoke seeped through the air. It was the sort of unpleasant and pungent that forced itself down your throat, and threatened to roll back up again with all the contents of your stomach. It took control of your head and suffocated the life out of it. No one was smoking, that was for sure. But they heard something crackle and fizzle behind them, and it didn't take them long to turn around.

The message was scratched into the wall behind with something that looked suspiciously like human nail markings, and red began to drip from it's edges. It spelled, in lines too thin and scraggly and utterly genuine looking-

**I KNOW YOU'RE HERE.**

"Somebody had better clean that up." Marie commented.

Jan merely rolled his eyes and began to shout at the apartment door.

"MATTHIAS KOHLER,_ I_ KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE."

**NO HE IS NOT. NOW GO AWAY.**

"W-Who's blood is that? Ew." Marie commented, looking at the sickly glops of red trickling down the scratches on the wall beside them.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all, the necromancer they'd been stalking wasn't the most feared of names, but he certainly had his reputation for his_ lovingly hospitable_ personality. The closest thing to a magical attribute she possessed were the ability to make near perfect chocolate waffles, and whilst that might have been a good distraction for the other two with him- the florist and the librarian, those wouldn't do very well in combating a guy who didn't seem to like sweet things and worked a modelling job. (Full black coffee, she remembered.) Besides she didn't carry Belgian waffles in her bag just to throw them at people. This was a little unnerving, and meddling with the profitable cosmic-timey-wimey business her brother liked was even more unnerving. But her brother, on the other hand, was perfectly convinced that what they were doing was an okay thing.

And when her brother says okay, it meant that they had no other choice.

He was rather irritating like that.

"Oi, open the door! I know about the things you guys did on the tournament, and I know what happened in the woods, so if you want me to shut up you'd better-"

The door opened, and then a hand shot out and grabbed Jan by his tulip locks, and pinned him hard onto the door frame.

"You. Will. Not. Speak of this here." Lukas hissed. He kicked Jan in the shin, before dragging him and his sister inside his apartment.

You see, apart from the Fae council, in the multi-linear dimension that the trio existed in, there was a brotherhood of different species of succubi and related beings, which in unlike human terms, where this only applied to demons, included an entire list of creatures who were produced to seduce unsuspecting men and women. This of course, included the Huldra and her male counterpart.

The Huldra, as folklore says, is a humanoid creature of fair countenance, who lured young men into the forest with their beauty. There are many different versions of the rest of the story- some say that if the men didn't satisfy their urges, they would soon say goodbye to their instruments of pleasure. Well, and their lives. Other times they could marry a good Christian man and they would be rid of the curse.

The point is, it differed from one sexy cow-tailed creature to another, and magic tournaments had obstacles chock full of them.

And let's just say that Matthias didn't come from_ nowhere_ into Lukas' life, and that Jan had been a long time friend of his before that.

In more ways than one.

* * *

_[Case name: We Need More Pocket Money And We're Terribly Bored_

_Type: Odd Job_

_Case details: A disgruntled, rather agitated young woman (ghoul) has been crawling out of static filled television. It doesn't seem to be Asian this time, and it always seems to be followed by another ghost which seems very apologetic about the situation. _

_Case mission: Get the two of them back to the underworld and settle some personal business there as well._

_Assistance: Alfred F Jones (a brat), Ivan Braginski (depressingly friendly sociopath)]_

"Is there anything else you guys need to add?" Vladmir asked.

Alfred pouted when he saw the title in parentheses.

"...For now, just one more." Arthur replied.

"And that is?"

"Gilbert Beilschmidt, guardian of the underworld."

* * *

**Author's Note: **

OH MY GOD GUYS I'M SO SORR

I haven't updated in about 5000 years I hope no one ran away omg I'm really sorry.

After the next two or so chapters, I will have to go on a super long hiatus, but before that, we will see more development to the plot, so please don't worry! I might be setting up a tumblr for all my fic AUs and notes- I can't write long chapters but maybe some of the notes might explain things clearer? If you guys think that's a good idea then please review and tell me so, or tell me on my tumblr. (Link in profile!)

Ahahahahahaahahaha I guess this AU has more magic and fantasy than you thought-

And thank you for all the follows and favourites I've gotten! I never expected many people to read this because unpopular category ahahaha :'D

/virtual waffles and fluffy love


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